Ghosts and Echoes
by HeroesLover77
Summary: A series prequel. Crabtree and Higgins weren't always friends. A story about how their friendship emerges from an unlikely event. Rated T for some violence.
1. Chapter 1

Summary – A series prequel. When Crabtree and Higgins first started off at Station 4, they were not exactly friends. This is a story in which their friendship emerges from an unlikely event. No copyright infringement intended— I don't own anything, nor do I gain anything from this story.

* * *

Chapter One -

When Henry Higgins joined the Toronto constabulary, he had envisioned a fast-paced career, full of excitement and heroics. He had not envisioned sitting for hours at a desk, doing paper work. In fact, that was what he had hoped to avoid by joining the constabulary! But alas, there he was.

It was a quiet Sunday, which was good. That meant that, on that sunny afternoon, the citizens of Toronto were generally behaving themselves. Even the station house seemed quieter than normal. A few officers milled around, doing menial tasks. But most of them, like Higgins, were planted behind a desk, filling in forms, or doing filing work.

Maybe it was quieter than normal because George Crabtree wasn't there to talk incessantly and distract everyone with his absurd stories and theories.

Higgins and Crabtree, along with two other young officers, McDonald and Keller, were the newest members of the force. They had all been sworn in around roughly the same time, about 6 months earlier, and Higgins, McDonald and Keller had all become quite good friends. The same could not be said of Crabtree, however.

To them, Crabtree was…odd. He was easily impressed and easily distracted, eager to please and always very polite, even to criminals. And the boys thought that perhaps he was too delicate for police work. They didn't really hold any of this against him. He was a good person, and a hard worker, but the aforementioned traits were ample reason to crack jokes behind his back.

The one thing that both annoyed the other new officers to no end, and bewildered them, was the fact that the more senior members of the force seemed to favour Crabtree over them! Even Inspector Brackenreid. And especially Detective Murdoch. They would frequently enlist his help in cases and even in personal matters from time to time. They seemed blinded by the naivety, which sometimes bordered on incompetence, that was so evident to Higgins, McDonald and Keller.

"Hey, Higgins. Where's your buddy?"

Henry looked up from his dull work as his friends came up on either side of his desk.

"He's off running another errand for Detective Murdoch." Higgins said in a voice low enough that no one nearby would be able to hear his contempt.

"I still can't believe you got partnered with Crabtree." McDonald said, shaking his head at the injustice.

"Maybe the Inspector thought that he could learn from you." Keller suggested.

"Maybe." Higgins responded unenthusiastically. Higgins, in contrast to Crabtree, was quite popular with the younger members of the constabulary. He was charismatic and confident (if at times somewhat brash), and he had so far shown to be a fine policeman.

"Anyway, there are worse things." Higgins said coolly after a moment, as he leaned back so the front legs of the chair lifted off the ground.

"I can't think of any." McDonald scoffed. Then he proceeded to mutter a few off-colour comments about their comrade, which made Higgins frown to himself. Of the three of them, McDonald seemed especially bothered by Crabtree, and his animosity seemed more personal, and more nasty. But McDonald was big guy, who had a few years, and more than a few pounds on Higgins. Higgins wasn't about to confront him about the comments.

"Anyone fancy getting some drinks after work?" Keller asked, changing the subject and breaking a somewhat tense silence.

"Sure." Henry and McDonald answered at the same time.

Just then Detective Murdoch come out of his office, and walked over to the desk.

"Gentlemen. Good afternoon." He greeted them.

Higgins quickly sat forward again, not wanting it to look like he'd been slacking. But the Detective wasn't there to tell them to get back to work.

"Good afternoon, sir." They responded.

"Have any of you seen Constable Crabtree lately?" The Detective asked.

They all shook their heads.

"I thought you sent him out, sir." Higgins answered.

"Yes, but that was over one hour ago. The suspect lives not 15 minutes from the station. He should have been back by now."

"I shouldn't be too concerned, sir. Knowing Crabtree, he probably just got lost on his way back, or got scared off by his own shadow or something." McDonald interjected with a smirk.

Higgins and Keller started to laugh, but stopped themselves when they saw the unimpressed look that Murdoch shot their way.

"I don't find that amusing, Constable." Murdoch chided.

McDonald apologised, but his friends could tell he didn't really mean it.

The Detective turned back to Higgins. "Tell him to report to me immediately when he gets back." And with that, the detective turned sharply and returned to his office.

"Nice." Keller said to McDonald sarcastically.

"Whatever." McDonald shot back, obviously embarrassed, but also defensive. "You were both thinking it. I was the only one brave enough to say it."

"It didn't have to be said." Keller told him. "Least of all to a Detective!"

As they argued behind him, Higgins watched Murdoch through the window to his office. The older man seemed genuinely concerned, and kept glancing at his watch. Perhaps they shouldn't have joked about the situation. Sure they made fun of Crabtree, but none of them would ever wish him any harm! What if something had happened to him?

"You guys should get back to work." Higgins said, interrupting his friends' bantering. "If the Detective comes back out, and you're still hanging around here, he'll think we're slacking off."

So Keller and McDonald went back to their own work, and Higgins continued to focus on his paper work.

Twenty more minutes went by, and Murdoch came back out to Higgins' desk.

"Come with me. We're going to visit the house of the man that Crabtree was sent to arrest."

"Think he's giving Crabtree a hard time, sir?"

"It wouldn't be the first time a suspect has resisted being brought to the station for questioning." Murdoch told him. "Still, I hope that's all it is."

"What do you mean?" Higgins asked, putting on his helmet.

"Let's visit the armoury before we leave. Just in case." Murdoch said. "This man is a murder suspect, after all."

Higgins nodded.

So Detective Murdoch and Constable Higgins left the station on bicycles, a shot gun slung across Higgins' back.

And, while he hoped that Crabtree wasn't in any danger, Henry was certainly grateful that the boring day now at least that the potential to be exciting!

* * *

A/N: What did you think? Please review! :) Thanks.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 –

Higgins and Murdoch made good time, and before long, they were pulling their bikes off of the road in front of the home of the their suspect.

"No sign of Constable Crabtree." Higgins commented, glancing up and down the road.

"No sign of Mr. Nolan either." Murdoch said. That was the man Crabtree had gone to arrest, and the owner of the single-story home before them.

Higgins held onto his gun firmly as they approached the house. They stopped short of the front steps, and the Detective sized up the situation.

"Alright Henry. Go around back, and try to see in through the windows. But be discreet. If they're inside, I want to know where they are. The more we know about the building, the safer it will be for us and Constable Crabtree. If he is in fact inside. And be careful."

Higgins nodded and hurried around the side of the house.

Murdoch climbed the stairs and run the doorbell. There was no answer. He rung it again. Again, no answer.

Higgins came back around front, and joined Murdoch on the veranda.

"The blinds were drawn, but I could see the shadows of someone moving around in a room near the back of the house."

"So someone is home, and yet not answering the doorbell. Mr. Nolan lives alone. That must be him. We need to get inside." Murdoch declared.

"Want me to kick the door in, sir?" Higgins asked, sounding rather enthusiastic about the idea.

"I don't think that would be wise, Constable. I don't think we should alert the suspect to our presence unnecessarily. We'll wait a few minutes, and let Mr. Nolan think that whoever was at the door has given up and left. Then, we'll gain access in a more… discreet manner."

"How are we going to do that?"

Murdoch glanced around, and spotted a window above an unkempt garden next to the porch. He descended the steps and stepped over the weeds and examined the window. It was open a crack. Perfect.

"Windows often serve as a vulnerable point in the security of a home. They're usually the easiest way to access a private residence without the owners' knowledge."

"I'll remember that, sir." Higgins said.

The Detective slowly and silently lifted the window open all the way.

"I'll go first." Higgins volunteered.

"Very well." Murdoch said.

He held the shotgun for the constable.

"I'll pass it to you once you're inside."

So Higgins gripped the window ledge, and hoisted himself up and into the room. He made as little noise as possible. Murdoch passed the weapon through to him, and then Henry gave the Detective a hand getting inside.

The living room they found themselves in was dark, and the house appeared to be silent.

Then, a voice from a room down the hall made the two policemen jump slightly.

"You're wrong! I know they will!" Shouted the voice, presumably belonging to Nolan.

"Mr. Nolan, the constabulary won't supply any ransom for me. I'm just a lowly constable. If you let me go now, I—"

"They'd better!" Came the reply. "Or you're going to get it!"

"He does have Crabtree!" Higgins said, his eyes wide. Murdoch nodded calmly and pressed a finger to his lips, urging his companion to keep quiet. Higgins nodded and pressed his lips together tightly to show he understood.

Murdoch led Higgins into the hallway, and they slowly and cautiously made their way down towards the room where the voices were coming from. They stood outside the open door, and the conversation continued.

"Besides, it isn't money that I want." Nolan stated. "All I want in my freedom, in exchange for your life. It seems reasonable to me. Besides, that bugger Simpson deserved to die, don't you agree?"

_Simpson was the victim in the detective's investigation_, Higgins thought to himself. _So Nolan DID kill him! _

"They won't allow you to walk free, regardless of what happens here today. You may be able to escape the noose if you let me go of your own accord. If you kill me, they will certainly hang you. Think of your family!" Crabtree tried to reason.

"Leave my family out of it!" Nolan snapped. "If it weren't for this business with Simpson, and you nosey coppers, I'd still be able to provide for them, and my wife would never have taken the children, and…"

There was a tense pause. Murdoch wondered if now was the proper time to announce their presence. Then Nolan spoke again.

"I think I've given them enough time to notice that you're missing. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to give a call to your station house, and present my demands." There were footsteps moving to one side of the room.

The two concealed officers took this to mean that he was walking away from George, and towards the phone. Murdoch saw his chance.

"Toronto Constabulary! Mr. Nolan, drop your weapon!" Murdoch ordered, stepping into plain view. Higgins followed him, fixing the shotgun on Nolan determinedly.

"Sir!" Crabtree cried in surprise. The young policeman was tied to a kitchen chair, and had suffered a few cuts and bruises to the face, but seemed otherwise unharmed. He was obviously shocked and relieved that reinforcements had arrived.

Nolan on the other hand, just looked shocked. He had been standing with his back to the door, had one hand on the phone, and the other held a pistol.

"It's over." Murdoch said. "Drop the gun."

Nolan muttered some incoherent sentences, and then shouted, "He deserved to die!"

"That may be, but it wasn't your call to make. And that's why we can't let you walk away, sir. Please put down the gun." The Detective said.

Nolan faced them in silence for a few moments. And then said, "I have nothing to live for."

"But your family!" Crabtree said.

"They're better off without me!" Nolan yelled. Then he looked at Higgins, and at Crabtree. Then, he faced Murdoch, and raising his weapon, he cocked the weapon and started towards him.

* * *

A/N: Sorry that took so long. BTW, I don't know about you guys, but I am LOVING the new season! :)


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three –

BANG!

The kitchen was small, so the sound was deafening, and the echo seemed to reverberate for ages. Higgins, who barely recalled pulling the trigger, lowered the still smoking barrel, stunned.

The force of the shot sent Nolan onto his back almost instantly. And he was dead before he hit the ground, as Higgins had hit him straight through the heart.

Murdoch rushed to George's side.

"Are you alright, George?" He asked, immediately getting to work untying the constable's hands.

"I'm fine sir, save for a few little scratches. Thanks to you and Henry." He smiled at Higgins, who was still staring at the body in front of him. Crabtree's smile turned to a frown of concern.

"Are you alright, Henry?" He asked. Higgins seemed unaware that he was being spoken to. He only seemed to snap out of it once the Detective walked over and gently took the weapon out of his trembling hands.

"What?" Henry asked, shaking his head a little bit. He had gone very pale, and his eyes looked sort of funny.

"I asked if you were alright." George told him.

"Of course I am!" He replied quickly. "Why wouldn't I be? He was coming at the Detective, George. I had to take action." The constable sounded like he was trying to convince himself, over anyone else, of this fact.

"That's right." Murdoch nodded. "You did a good job, Henry." He placed a supportive hand on the young man's shoulder. Then he turned his attention back to Crabtree, who was gingerly touching a cut on his bottom lip.

"George, Henry will accompany you back to the station. I will telephone the Inspector and tell him what happened. I'll ask him to have Dr. Ogden waiting for you when you arrive. I'd like her to check your injuries before she comes to inspect the body. My guess is you might need some stitches."

"Why does she need to inspect the body?" Higgins asked flatly. "I shot him. That was the cause of death." His tone might have been mistaken for one of indifference, but Murdoch could tell that he was just feeling uncomfortable, and a bit stunned.

"Yes… but it's just protocol, Henry. You understand, don't you?"

Henry nodded.

"Surely you'll need my help here, sir. I can wait to see that doctor." Crabtree offered.

"No, I'll ask the inspector to send over some more constables. You need to rest. The last thing you should be doing today is investigating a murder." Murdoch told him, picking up the phone and dialling the station.

"Murder?" Higgins asked, beginning to feel a bit sick to his stomach. Had he _murdered_ Mr. Nolan? Was there going to be an investigation?

"Yes. Mr. Simpson's murder. Nolan admitted to us several times just now that he'd killed him. But Detective Murdoch will still need to wrap up that case in it's entirety." Crabtree replied.

"Oh. Right." Higgins said, feeling a bit relieved. He let his eyes drift over to the corner of the kitchen where Mr. Nolan's body lay. A great deal of blood had pooled around where he lay staring lifelessly at the ceiling. Higgins knew he should feel something, but he just felt numb.

Murdoch hung up the phone, and turned to the two constables.

"Right then. Your replacements are on their way. They're bringing a carriage, which will take you back to the station. I'd rather you not walk in that state, George." He said. "Both of you, take it easy for the rest of the day."

"Right, sir." George said. He picked up his helmet, which had been taken off at some point during the ordeal and left on the floor.

"Let's wait outside." Crabtree suggested.

Higgins took one last look at the scene: the blood splattered pale yellow walls, and the lifeless form of Mr. Nolan below. Then, he turned and walked out with his colleague. He tried to forget the image, but he had a feeling that it was one that would stay with him for a very long time.

On the short ride back to the station, Crabtree talked as much as usual. Despite his ordeal, he appeared to be no worse for wear. Higgins pretended to listen, out of politeness. But he really just wished that the other constable would shut up.

* * *

"I'm fine, Doctor. Really." George insisted.

"I'll be the judge of that if you don't mind, Constable." Julia responded. He had indeed need a couple of stitches to patch up his split lip.

Higgins stood a few metres back, arms crossed over his chest, watching and thinking, when his mates showed up.

"Hello, what's going on here, then?" McDonald asked, coming up from behind Higgins. Henry jumped a little, startled.

"A bit jumpy are we?" Keller said.

"I'm fine. You startled me." Higgins responded tiredly.

"So what happened to our resident super-cop?" McDonald scoffed, nodding over to where Crabtree was enthusiastically telling Julia something.

Higgins frowned slightly at the nickname. They'd all called Crabtree names from time to time, but it didn't seem fair after what had just happened.

"It's a long story." He replied a moment later.

"Tell us over a drink?" Keller suggested. "It's almost 4."

Higgins glanced at his watch. So it was. The day had gone pretty quickly after Murdoch pulled him out from behind the desk to go off in search of George.

"Okay." Higgins agreed. Maybe that was just what he needed…


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four –

The three young constables arrived at a local copper's pub after work and ordered a round.

"So, tell us about your adventures, lad." McDonald prompted.

"We went to Nolan's place, and discovered that he was holding Crabtree hostage." Higgins said. He didn't have the energy to add the dramatic flare he usually used when telling stories. Not to mention, he hardly felt like bragging about taking someone's life.

His friends stared at him in disbelief and anticipation.

"Detective Murdoch and I went in through the window. We confronted him in the kitchen. He had a pistol, and it looked like he was going to shoot the Detective so…so I shot him."

"You shot him!?" Exclaimed Keller.

"You're a hero, mate!" McDonald said, clapping his friend on the shoulder. Higgins shrugged out from under the other man's hand. He didn't feel like a hero.

"Barkeep, another round for my good man here." McDonald said. "He saved the lives of two fellow officers today!"

"Well done, lad! That's certainly something to be proud of!" Said the man behind the bar as he poured another beer for Higgins.

"I suppose so. Thanks." Henry said softly.

"Well mate, all I can say is that I'm jealous. The most exciting thing that happened to me today was when I helped an old woman find her lost dog." Keller told him.

They laughed.

"Now that's real police work, Henry!" McDonald said.

"Yeah. Now that you've demonstrated your abilities to the Detective, I wouldn't be surprised if you got to attend more of those types of calls from now on!" Keller agreed enthusiastically. He brought his glass up in a toast and McDonald and Higgins brought theirs up and clinked their glasses together.

Henry hadn't thought of that. Did he want to go on more calls like that? Where he would be forced to take a person's life? He took a big sip of beer. He wouldn't think about it right now, he decided.

"Let's forget about work for now. Tonight, let's just relax!" Higgins said, finding a new sense of resolve. He was going to drink away that image of Nolan that kept popping into his head. He was going to celebrate the fact that no one else had been killed that day.

Higgins reached forward to just behind the bar, where there was a large brass bell, which was rung whenever someone was buying a round for the whole pub. He rang it. At the bell tolling, the other men in the room cheered in appreciation.

"Can you really afford that, Henry?" Asked Keller in the midst of all the cheering.

"Sure he can!" McDonald said, slinging an arm around his buddy's shoulders. "My boy Henry here will surely be the next in line for a promotion after his heroic efforts today!"

Higgins smiled and shrugged at Keller.

"You only live once, my friend." Higgins said. "Cheers." And he down the rest of his drink.

* * *

A couple of hours and several drinks later, Henry was pretty far gone, and found himself about to fight a much bigger chap, of cop from another station, over something (he wasn't even sure what).

"I think you should go home, Henry." Keller said, dragging him away from his would-be opponent before the fists could start flying.

"I could take him! I've – I've killed a man. I can take him." Henry slurred.

"Yeah but you don't have a gun on you, now. That man could tear you to pieces, Henry." Keller reasoned. "And besides, you're in uniform. He isn't. You could get in serious trouble for that."

"I don't care." Higgins replied, swaying on the spot.

"I'll walk you home." Keller said. He went over to McDonald, who was still in the full thick of his drinking at the bar, and told him they were leaving.

"You're an inspiration to all of us Higgins!" He shouted drunkenly across the pub to his friend.

Higgins pretended not to hear him. Then Keller came and led his friend outside.

Once outside Higgins's boarding house, Keller reminded him that they were on the morning shift the next day.

"You're going to be fairly hung over, but try not to be late." Keller said. "You've got quite the bill to pay off after tonight." He added, in an amused tone.

"Yeah, yeah. A hang over won't stop me. I've killed a man." Higgins said. Then, he reached over and gave his friend a drunk hug. " 'Night, buddy."

" 'Night." Keller said with a half laugh, as Higgins stumbled his way up to his door.

Keller shook his head as he walked away. Higgins was never one to hold his alcohol, but Keller had never seen his friend get so drunk. He was going to be a mess in the morning.

* * *

Higgins awoke to the sun shining inconsiderately bright right in his eyes the next morning. He groaned. Then he shot up in bed. The sun light meant that he was late.

He scrambled out of bed, and quickly got into his uniform, and brushed his teeth before booking it out the door to work.

Meanwhile, at the stationhouse, Keller was shaking his head as he watched the Inspector question the other constables about Higgins' whereabouts.

McDonald, who sat across from him at the desk they were working at, leaned across the desk.

"Where is he?" He asked.

"I don't know. He drank way too much last night, and I just walked him home after that. Don't you think he was acting sort of strange last night?"

"No." McDonald said.

"He wanted to fight that massive copper from Station house 3. Henry isn't usually one to instigate such things."

"He seemed fine to me."

Just then, Henry rushed into the station. He looked like hell. His hair was messy, and his white shirt was hanging below his tunic, the buttons on which were only partially done up.

"Oh, Lord." Keller said.

Inspector Brackenreid's gaze landed on the young man.

"My office, Higgins!" The Inspector said, passing Henry and entering his office. Higgins swallowed hard, and hastily tried to sort himself out before entering the Inspector's office. The constables watched him with sympathy as he reluctantly followed his superior.

When Henry had closed the door behind him, he took a deep breath, and braced himself for the worst.

The Inspector faced him.

"You're nearly an hour late, Higgins. And you show up looking like hell, with your uniform all our of sorts. Normally, I'd be tearing a strip off of you right about now."

"Normally, sir?" Higgins asked, still standing at attention, not wanting to press his luck.

"Relax, Higgins. Detective Murdoch told me all about what happened yesterday. It's quite the thing to kill a man. Especially face to face like that. How are you handling it, lad?"

Henry stood there in surprise for a moment.

"I- I'm fine sir." He responded.

"Of course you are. Tough lad like you. Still, it can take the wind out of your sails, can't it? The important thing is that you did what had to be done, and Murdoch and Crabtree are both here because of it. Now, make yourself presentable, and head out to meet Crabtree. He's been on your beat without you since 6. It's amazing how he doesn't seem phased at all by what's happened."

"Yeah, amazing." Higgins muttered, quietly enough that the Inspector couldn't hear. When he was dismissed, Higgins went and splash some water on his face and tried to get his hair under control. He was feeling a certain animosity towards Crabtree that day, which he really couldn't explain.

Once he was looking well put together, he headed out to meet his oh-so amazing partner.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! Sorry for the late update (writing term papers takes precedents over fanfic, I'm afraid :P )


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five –

Crabtree and Higgins' shift passed virtually without event. Which meant Higgins had plenty of time to think about the previous day's events. Crabtree chatted away, as per usual. The inspector had been right- he didn't seem fazed by it at all.

At one point, a passing newspaper boy called out the headlines, "Copper Kidnapped, Kidnapper killed!" He shouted.

Crabtree paid the boy for a copy.

"Would you look at this!" Crabtree exclaimed. "My picture is here in the paper!" He scanned the article.

"It's a shame they didn't put your picture in here, Henry. You're the one who saved the day, after all!" George said, with a friendly smile.

"A shame. Yeah."

"They don't even mention your name! That's terrible." George continued, not even noticing his comrades less than enthusiastic reply. "But my name is listed! Constable George Crabtree! Wow, I must get another copy to send my aunts." He looked up to see where the paper boy had gone.

When George had his two papers, and they were walking the beat again, he turned to Henry.

"About yesterday…"

"We don't have to talk about it." Henry cut him off.

"You saved my life."

"Maybe I did. It's over now, isn't it? There's nothing left to talk about."

There was an uneasy silence, then Crabtree dared to ask, "Did shooting Mr. Nolan… upset you?"

Henry stopped and glared at his partner.

"Didn't I just say to drop it?! Honestly, Crabtree, can't you just keep your mouth shut for all of two seconds? Why do you have to talk all the time? I mean, just because you like the sound of your own damned voice doesn't mean the rest of us do!" He turned his head away quickly and continued walking, at a much more brisk pace than before.

George stared after him for a moment, shocked by the sudden outburst. Then he caught up with his partner, and neither man spoke for the remainder of their shift.

* * *

After work, Higgins convinced his friends to join him for another drink.

"Maybe you should consider limiting your intake tonight." Keller suggested.

"What are you, my mother?" Higgins asked nastily. McDonald laughed.

Higgins didn't plan on getting drunk again, though. He was just abiding by the inspector's philosophy: "There's nothing a few whiskey can't make better". At the least, it would allow him a few hours to forget everything.

"So did the inspector give it to you good this morning?" McDonald asked as they sat down with their drinks.

"As a matter of fact… he was congratulating me. On my actions yesterday." Henry said, sipping his drink.

"See? I knew it. A promotion is headed your way!" McDonald said.

"Crabtree should be out here buying you a drink!" Keller suggested.

"Has he even thanked you for saving his life yet?" McDonald asked.

"Yes, he has." Henry said. He felt a bit guilty about the way he's treated him earlier. But he hadn't wanted thanks from George. He didn't feel like he deserved it, especially now, after he'd been so harsh with him.

They drank for a while, and in a short time, Henry had matched the level of intoxication he'd reached the night before.

"C'mon, let's go!" Higgins shouted. He stood faced off against the same large gentleman he'd attempted to fight last night.

"Kid, I could flatten you in two seconds. Go home." The other cop laughed, swaying under the effect of his own drinking.

" No, let's do this. Come on!" Higgins said, unbuttoning his cuffs and pushing his sleeves up to the elbow.

"Higgins, don't be stupid!" Keller said.

"Listen to your friend, son. Walk away." The large man said. Then, Higgins lunged at him. The man pushed him back, and Higgins stumbled, then lunged again, swinging his fist. He caught the man in the jaw, but alcohol had served to weaken Higgins' offences, and the man barely felt the blow.

"That's right, show him what's for, Henry!" McDonald called out. Keller glared at his friend.

Then, the man shoved Higgins backward, and the younger officer fell, hitting his forehead on the corner of a table on his way down.

"Henry, are you okay?" Keller asked, helping him up.

"I'm fine." Henry mumbled, bringing his hand up to his forehead. When he brought it back down again, there was some blood.

The large man with whom Henry was fighting, walked over and handed Henry a cloth napkin. Henry pressed it against his wound.

"Thanks." He mumbled.

"Don't mention it. Look, I recommend you lads head home, and… maybe don't come back for a couple of days."

"Right." Keller said. He tossed Higgins' jacket to him, and they left.

* * *

The next morning, as Henry and George were heading out, Inspector Brackenreid ran into them on his way into the office.

"What happened to you?" He asked, nodding at Henry's injury.

"I, uh, fell down the stairs." He lied.

"Huh. Well, quit being so clumsy." Brackenreid smirked. "Oh, and Murdoch needs both of your statements regarding the shooting. Make sure you get them in to him before the day's out."

"Yes sir." The two constables replied. Then Brackenreid disappeared into his office.

"You didn't really fall down the stairs, did you?" George asked.

"I got in a bit of a fight at the bar last night." Henry admitted once they were away from the station.

"Really?" Crabtree asked.

"Yeah. I don't want to talk about it." Henry replied.

"Big surprise there." Crabtree muttered.

It was a beautiful sunny day, the sort of day that made people feel glad to be alive. But Henry was feeling more moody than ever. Still, he thought maybe he should apologise for how he's treated Crabtree the day before.

"Crabtree, look, I…" He stopped. He's caught something out of the corner of his eye, which made his stomach turn. A man walking past them, who he recognised…

He turned around quickly, to see the man more clearly, but he appeared to have vanished into the crowd.

"What's wrong?" Crabtree asked, noticing the look of confusion on Henry's face.

"I thought I saw…nothing." Henry said. And he was sure it was nothing.

The continued on. Henry had forgotten about the apology. He felt on edge. Was he hallucinating? Was his guilt making him insane? Perhaps it was just someone who looked like him…

About an hour later, he thought he saw him again. That face… It was just brief, like the flash of an image in the middle of the crowd. But he was sure it was him. He was sure it was Nolan.

He ran towards the crowd, but there was no sign on him.

"What are you doing?" Crabtree asked, once he was standing next to Higgins, who was scanning the crowd anxiously.

"Nothing." Henry said, when he realised Nolan wasn't there. "Sorry. Let's go."

So they continued walking their beat, Higgins looking over his shoulder the whole time.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the wait. Now that season 6 is over (in Canada, at least), I'm going to have to be satisfied with writing and reading Fanfic til next year!


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 –

Back at the station, George sat down and began to write out the statement that Detective Murdoch required for the investigation.

Higgins hovered next to his desk. When he didn't sit, Crabtree gave him a funny look.

"Is something the matter?" He asked.

"No…I'll be back in a minute." Higgins said. And with that, he quickly turned and left the station.

Henry couldn't help but feel like he was doing something dishonest as he entered the City Morgue and made his way to Dr. Ogden's office. He pressed himself up against the wall in the corridor as the coroner left the room, staring down at a clipboard. She didn't see him.

Higgins took the opportunity, with Julia gone, to steal into her office. He walked into the morgue, and spotted a body covered by a white sheet on a table in the centre of the room. He took off his helmet, instinctually, and approached the body.

He took a deep breath, and pulled the sheet away from the face of the corpse.

He breathed a sigh of relief, the relief being replaced almost immediately by a feeling of unease. It was Nolan. He was dead, that was for certain. Dr. Ogden had already opened him and stitched him back up. Which meant that this wasn't the man Henry had seen, not once, but twice, on his beat earlier that day.

Then Higgins had a frightening thought.

What if he was going insane? He was pretty sure that he wasn't seeing Nolan's ghost around town, so he must have been hallucinating! Certainly a crazy man wouldn't be able to keep a job at the constabulary…

Just then, the door to the morgue opened. Henry quickly covered up the deceased man, and, donning his helmet, moved as far from the autopsy slab as he could.

Dr. Ogden walked a few steps before looking up from her files.

"Constable Higgins!" She said, startled. "What can I do for you?"

"Uh…" Henry racked his brain for something plausible to excuse his being there. "Detective Murdoch sent me, to see if there was anything worth noting on the victim."

"Victim?" Ogden repeated.

"Mr. Nolan." Henry said.

"I see." Dr. Ogden replied. "That's odd. Detective Murdoch usually comes to check that sort of thing himself."

Henry didn't say anything. Dr. Ogden checked her files.

"Death by shotgun wound." She said, giving Higgins a sympathetic look. "But I did find that the victim had cocaine in his system when he was shot."

"Cocaine?" Higgins confirmed. Julia nodded.

"It can cause irrational behaviour. Even if you'd had the time to negotiate with him, Constable, I doubt you'd have convinced him to give up his hostage without a fight." The doctor smiled at the young man.

"Thank you." Henry said. As he was about to leave, he stopped.

"Doctor Ogden?"

"Yes?"

"I didn't…I mean, Detective Murdoch didn't ask me to come over here. I just came, because…"

"It's alright. You have a right to know these things. This must be terribly difficult for you. And for Constable Crabtree as well, of course."

"Yes, he was the one taken hostage, so…" Henry began. For some reason, words were just failing him today.

"Take care of yourself, Henry." Julia told him.

"Thank you Doctor Ogden. Good day." He tipped his helmet to her, and left.

Henry spent the rest of the day allowing the new information to sink in. He didn't quite know what to make of the fact that he'd shot a man who was under the influence of drugs. Was he a good person when not on cocaine? No. He was a murder. Drugs just made him more violent, more irrational. Henry had no choice but to pull the trigger.

That night was a sleepless one, and the next morning at his desk, Higgins could barely keep his eyes open.

"Higgins!" Crabtree said, shaking his shoulder.

"Huh, what?" Higgins said, snapping to and rubbing his eyes.

"You were sleeping at your desk! Are you mad? What if the inspector saw you!?"

"Stop making such a big deal out of everything. Let's go." Higgins snapped, putting on his helmet and pushing past him to the door.

"Alright, that's it!" George said to himself, and he followed Henry outside. Once they were around the side of the station house, George stood in front of Henry, blocking his path.

"Look, I'm not going to just take this abuse from you anymore!" He said.

"Get out of my way Crabtree!" Henry said, moving to go around the other constable. But George countered his every movement.

"You've been extremely disagreeable these last few days! I know we aren't the best of friends on a good day, but usually you at least make some attempt to get along!"

"What are you talking about?" Henry asked, more than a little annoyed by this point. He didn't owe Crabtree anything!

"Just tell me what's going on, won't you? I can't work like this any more."

"You want me to tell you? Fine! I see Nolan whenever I close my eyes to sleep, and yesterday, I saw him walking around, when we were on our beat!"

Crabtree stared at his partner. "What?"

"You heard me."

"Is that supposed to be funny?" Crabtree asked after a moment.

"Why? Do you find it funny?" Higgins gave a snarky laugh.

"No."

"No. Of course not. Forget it." Henry said.

"I don't think I will forget it. That's a weird thing to say, Henry. Especially about a man that you yourself killed."

"Well it's the truth, so I don't know what you want me to tell you, Crabtree!"

"Maybe you should talk to someone…"

"You mean like an alienist?" Higgins asked, his tone suddenly becoming darker.

Crabtree shrugged.

"And maybe _you_ should just keep your opinions to yourself, Crabtree. Ever think of that?" Higgins asked in a low voice. "An alienist would mean the end of my career. Now let's just pretend this conversation never happened, alright?" He was really regretting having mentioned Nolan.

"For now." Crabtree agreed, noticing that some citizens who were passing by were giving them odd looks.

"Good enough." Higgins muttered.

Awkward small talk constituted much of that shift's conversation, until about ten minutes before they were due back at the station.

"Let's start heading back." Henry suggested, glancing at his watch.

"Wait, Henry." George said, staring across the street.

"What is it?"

"I think I see…look, by the fruit stand." George said, grabbing Henry's arm with one had and pointing with the other. There were several people gathered in the square.

"What am I looking at?" Henry asked impatiently.

"It's Nolan." George replied, in disbelief.

"Oh, very funny." Henry said, pulling away sharply. "That's real mature, Crabtree. Mock me all you want, I don't care. Now let's go!"

"I'm not mocking you! I saw him, I swear!" Crabtree insisted.

Henry looked at him, still sceptical, but growing confused.

"Maybe it's his ghost." Crabtree suggested.

"I don't think so." Henry scoffed. "Perhaps there's someone in Cabbagetown who looks like Mr. Nolan. Or perhaps we're _both_ going crazy." He smirked.

"Perhaps." George said, still looking around for the man. "That must be it. Some one who looks like him. Nothing to worry about." There was a pause. "Still. Maybe we should double check that Nolan's still in the mor-"

"I already did." Higgins cut him off.

"Really?" George said.

Henry nodded. "He's dead, George."

"Alright then, we've settled that. Nothing to worry about, is there." George said.

"It would appear not." Higgins said. But he was unable to shake the feeling in the pit of his stomach, that told him they were wrong.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 –

A few days later, and it had now been a week since Henry had shot Mr. Nolan. And, as much as he hated to admit it, the incident had left Higgins unable to do his job effectively. His lack of sleep meant that he was sluggish and grumpy on the beat, and falling asleep at his desk. He was also still paranoid.

Crabtree had been able to recover from their "almost sighting" of Nolan, and seemed to fully accept the explanation they'd devised—that there was simply someone in Cabbagetown who looked like the deceased.

Intellectually, Henry knew that this was probably the most logical explanation for these sightings, but his guilt wouldn't allow him to accept it entirely.

At the seven day mark, he stumbled into the office in the morning, looking like death. He was run down, and had developed a chest cold, and was less that thrilled about being at work that morning.

Coughing, he tried to get through some paper work that had been mounting up on his desk since the shooting. But he couldn't focus, and kept messing things up. Finally, he took a paper he working on, tore it in half, scrunched it up in a ball and threw it on the ground.

He didn't care that people were staring at him. What he hadn't realised was that for the past few days, most of his co-workers had noticed his failing condition.

"Higgins." Came a voice from behind him.

"What?" He snapped, head in his hands. Now he had a headache on top of everything else.

The unseen owner of the voice cleared his throat expectantly. When Higgins turned, he saw that it was Detective Murdoch. That did _not_ help his headache.

Mentally kicking himself, Henry clumsily got to his feet, out of respect.

"Sir. I'm sorry, I thought you were…well…someone else." Henry looked past the Detective's shoulder and saw Crabtree standing by the water cooler with a few other constables, who were all watching the scene. But they weren't laughing as Henry would have expected. Instead they watched with a look of concern, until they noticed Henry's glare, and then they turned away.

"That's alright, Henry. I wonder if I could have a word with you in my office?"

"Yes sir." Higgins replied, trying not to let his voice betray his sense of apprehension. He reluctantly followed the older man into the next room.

He had just taken the position of attention when the Detective invited him to have a seat. Henry sat down, somewhat confused. He'd expected the Detective to tell him off for his terrible work ethic over the past few days, but that didn't seem to be what the Detective had in mind.

"Henry…" He began, uncomfortably shifting some papers on his desk. "How have you been handling last week's events."

"I don't know what you mean sir." Henry lied coolly.

"Oh, no?" The Detective asked, sounding like he didn't at all believe that. "I'm referring to the incident in which you had to take another man's life in order to do your job."

"Oh." Henry said. "That."

"Yes. _That_."

"Well, I'm fine sir. You –" He was interrupted by a sudden coughing fit. Murdoch waited for him to finish before speaking.

"I've heard otherwise. It seems that you're having a hard time coping. Now, that's nothing to be ashamed of -"

"Who told you that!" Higgins said angrily. "It was Crabtree wasn't it!?" He spun around in his chair and looked out the office window at the water cooler. But Crabtree had since left to do something else, and Henry couldn't see him.

"It doesn't matter who told me."

"Yes it does!" Henry argued. "Well did it ever occurred to you, or to him, that maybe _he_ is my problem!? I want a new partner. I can't work with that man anymore! He is hardly even a police officer..!"

What Henry didn't say was that every time he saw Crabtree, it reminded him of the kidnapping, and the subsequent shooting of Nolan.

"Alright, that's enough." Murdoch said, raising his voice slightly.

Henry swallowed hard. He normally would never have spoken like that to a superior. He was just lucky it was Murdoch, and not the Inspector. The Detective was a much more patient and forgiving man.

"For your information, Constable, I actually didn't need anyone to tell me." Murdoch continued. "It was fairly obvious to the entire station, I should think."

Henry didn't say anything. Apparently he had failed at trying to keep his misery a secret. Why did cops have to be so damn perceptive!

"Most people have a hard time killing. I've heard stories of men at war, brave men, who are driven mad by repeating the act over and over."

"With all due respect, sir, that isn't making me feel any better." Henry told him.

Murdoch smirked a little.

"All I'm saying is that sometimes you have to ask for help in these cases. Or at the very least, talk about it."

"Sir, if you're talking about seeing an alienist, I'm not interested. And I _don't_ _need_ to." Henry said defensively.

"I'm not so sure…"

"I'll be fine in a few days. Soon I'll forget all about it." He assured the Detective. "And, if you give me a new partner, I'm sure I'll forget about it even sooner, seeing as I won't have Crabtree there talking about it all the time!"

"I don't think that the Inspector will authorize any movement of personnel at the moment. And I don't think that Crabtree is to blame here. I'll respect your decision for now, Henry, but if I don't see an improvement in the next couple of days, you're going to need to talk to someone about all of this. Alright?"

"Understood sir." Henry said after a moment. He wasn't happy about it, but he just wanted to get out of the office.

"And, if there _is_ an improvement…I'll ask you again how you feel about wanting a new partner."

Then Murdoch dismissed him, with a reminder that his door was always open if Higgins wanted to talk. Henry thanked him politely, and left. Now he was going to find Crabtree.

He found him upstairs in the lunch room. Henry shoved him against the wall.

"What—" George began.

"Shut up!" Higgins said angrily. "You told Detective Murdoch about the other day, didn't you?"

Crabtree was quiet for a moment.

"That's what I thought." Henry sneered.

"I was worried about you. You seemed to be… deteriorating."

"Well thanks very much, Crabtree. But I don't need _you_ to worry about me, or the _Detective_ to worry about me, or anyone to! I can take care of myself. Unlike you. At least I didn't get myself kidnapped!"

Crabtree looked genuinely hurt by the comment. Henry felt a pang of guilt, but it was gone soon enough.

"If I lose my job because of you…"

"You won't lose your job!" Crabtree said. "Don't be ridiculous."

"You're telling me not to be ridiculous!? That's a change of pace, isn't it!" Higgins laughed. "Let me tell you something…"

A Sergeant walked into the lunchroom, and the two constables both relaxed their stances to make it look as though nothing was going on. Neither of them wanted to be seen fighting at work.

"I'm putting in for a new partner." Higgins said a bit more calmly. "I don't know if it will be approved, but it's probably better for both of us. Wouldn't you say?"

Crabtree didn't respond, but Henry didn't need him to. So he walked away. He was glad they didn't have a beat shift that day. He didn't think he could face his partner for a while

after that.

After work at the pub, Higgins told Keller and McDonald about his decision to trade partners. But his anger had subsided since he'd confronted Crabtree in the lunchroom. Now he felt bad. Perhaps he had been too hard on his partner. Telling him it was his fault that he was kidnapped didn't seem fair.

However, Henry's friends (at least McDonald) seemed confident that Henry's decision had been the right one.

"Finally, you'll have a capable partner!" McDonald said. "If they approve it, that is."

"Yeah..." Henry responded. "To be honest, I feel sort of bad about how I dealt with it. You know, since Crabtree's had sort of a rough week."

"He'll get over it." McDonald said. "A cop like you should be partnered with a cop of similar calibre. Not some silly kid like Crabtree."

"Well he was just trying to help me." Henry said, more to himself than to his friends.

"What do you mean?" Asked Keller.

"Nothing." Henry said. He pulled his wallet out of his pocket. "Look, guys, I'm going to head out." He put his money on the counter.

"Where are you going?" Keller asked.

"Home. I need to get a good night's sleep if I'm going to fight this cold, and convince Detective Murdoch that I'm fine."

They said their goodnights and Henry left.

But he'd hardly been home ten minutes, when he felt like he wouldn't be able to sleep until he talked to Crabtree about what had happened, and what he'd said.

It wasn't quite 9 o'clock yet, so Henry put on a coat and decided he'd ride his bike the some fifteen kilometres to George Crabtree's house, and speak to him face to face. And maybe to apologise.

A/N: The story will be wrapping up in the next couple of chapters. Thanks to everyone who read and a special thanks to everyone who reviewed!


End file.
